


Dreams

by orphan_account



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Pegging, just for the sex man, the plot is a lie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 13:56:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merry and Pippin visit Eomer and Eowyn. . .while there, Eowyn realizes that Merry has been having nightmares about Pelennor, just like she has. They spend a lovely night together to banish the dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> A little ditty I wrote for a very, very dear friend in the Tolkien Tumblr RP Community, the-iron-crown.tumblr.com. May Murmun enjoy the Merrywyn! Shout out to Beru-mun for editing for me :)

            Eowyn fidgeted with the decorations on the tabletop. She wanted everything to be perfect; the colors, the food, the guests. The Master of Buckland and Thain of the Shire were to be greeted with as much grandeur as possible. After all, Meriadoc Brandybuck, Esquire of Rohan, was one of her and Eomer’s closest friends. She had missed Pippin greatly, of course, but riding home without Merry sharing her saddle had nearly made her cry. To see him again. . .she fiddled again with the flowers on the table.

            The trumpets sounded not moments later, much sooner than she had expected. The shieldmaiden bolted out the door of the hall. Eomer Eadig already stood there, bedecked and ready to greet their esteemed friends. A small caravan, perhaps a half dozen hobbits and twice as many ponies, was riding into the gates.

            “The great hall is ready,” she told her brother. “The kitchens have begun setting up for the banquet. The rooms for those accompanying them are prepared, as well as the one room they requested for themselves. That was all on my part; the stables are ready, yes?”

            Eomer nodded as the caravan pulled into the courtyard. Merry and Pippin both dismounted, and bowed as regally as they could before Eowyn was down the steps and grasping them both to her bosom, laughing aloud.

            “It has been too long, my friends!” Eomer called to the three of them, chuckling at his sister’s antics. The effects of the war had been tremendous on Eowyn. How many nights had he spent lying in her bed, soothing her through the nightmares, promising that nothing would come to harm her? To see her smile so effortlessly lifted his heart, and he felt his own stress waver as she laughed and cradled her friends.

            “We’ve prepared a huge feast; I have taken the recipes you’ve given me and had them recreated by our cooks-No, don’t worry, I didn’t partake in the cooking! How have you been? What have you been doing to occupy yourselves?”

            The questions were thrown in droves at the two hobbits as she ushered them and their companions to each of their rooms. They reached Merry and Pippin’s last, and after a quick tour, settled on the bed. The trio chatted until a servant ran to fetch them for dinner. Between their words, she noticed that Merry seemed exhausted from the journey; she took a mental note to make sure he slept tonight with a belly full of ale. Finally, after a long day of traveling for the hobbits, and a long day of preparation for the woman, they sat down to eat.

            As they filled their plates and settled in, Eomer raised the first question.

“How has life been in the Shire?” he asked, brow raised as he drank of his mead. “I have heard you recover as Rohan does. . .how well is that going?”

            Merry exchanged a glance with his cousin, and shrugged.

            “As well as it does for you, my king,” he replied, and snorted. “Granted, we have all been through our hardships, but the Shire was not in _so_ bad a place. We were luckier than most, I think.”

            “Lucky. . .or blessed,” Pippin agreed.

            “Many of us have been lucky, as well as blessed,” Eowyn said, and scooped some food into her mouth. “Oh, and speak not to my brother so formally; I believe he would agree with me. We are such good friends, it is odd for you to call him king, as it would be odd for us to call you Thain and Master in such respects.”

            Eomer rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement, but said not a word.

            “And how have you been, lord and lady?” Merry winked over his own mug, and stuck his tongue out after a hearty swig. “If you are so lucky and blessed, I pray that you have been well, and that Rohan recovers well.”

            “It does,” Eomer said. “I ride out often to take care of stray packs of orcs, and Aragorn and I have planned many raids and attacks on the leftovers of Isengard and Mordor. Each one goes as well as the last. Our men fight well, and hard. There is little to fear, and our villages are being rebuilt stronger and faster than before. Our land will grow, our people will learn and begin again.”

            The hobbit nodded and smiled serenely, and Eowyn found herself feeling of equal happiness. He looked so happy for them. Suddenly, his eyes flicked to hers, and she felt her cheeks heat with memories of their time together. She noticed again that he seemed tired. The White Lady filled his cup again, intent on keeping him well drunk and ready to sleep at a moment’s notice.

            The rest of their meal went well; they talked and laughed about the past, dreamed about the future, discussed trade and alliances. Eomer set up ideas about how he planned to forward Rohan; Eowyn shared her thoughts on a healing guild that could benefit from plants of the Shire. Merry and Pippin brought up their own beliefs and notions for the future of the Shire, of Buckland and every land there. The Blue Mountains profit, and Bree’s recovery in the farming industry, was of much help.

            After talking long into the night, Eowyn yawned and smiled at the group of them; all the servants had gone to bed, and the other hobbits of the caravan (as well as many of the siblings’ own men) were sleeping, either in their own beds or amongst the tables and on the floor of the hall.

            “I believe it is now time for sleeping,” she said, and rubbed at her eyes. “We’ve much to do and plan tomorrow, and I will happily do this all when I am not filled with mead and fighting to keep my eyes open.”

            “Aye, I think it is time for us to retire as well,” Pippin agreed, and Merry nodded slowly. “We’ll have much to talk about in the morning. Er, well, perhaps not in the morning, but when we have awoken again!”

            And Eowyn rose and led them back to their room, pointed out the location of her room, before stumbling to her own room and falling into bed. Her eyes closed and she slipped into sleep.

 

            Eowyn was startled awake by booming thunder and a loud banging on her door.

            “My lady! Help! Merry won’t wake up!”

            It was Pippin. She wasted no time scrambling out of bed, dagger drawn, and swung open her door. The hobbit was already racing down the hallway, well aware that she could keep up.

            “He’s thrashing about and moaning, but when I shake him, he doesn’t open his eyes.”

            _Night terrors_.

            Pippin slammed the door to their room open; there was Merry, huddled on the ground next to the bed, shaking and mumbling. Eowyn felt her stomach drop and her heart falter.

            “Oh, thank the Valar, I thought you wouldn’t wake up,” Pippin started forward, but Eowyn grasped his shoulder and pulled him back.

            “He’s not awake yet,” she murmured, and took a slow step towards him. “He’s having nightmares about battle. I know, because I suffer the same. My brother taught me to ignore them, but Merry was not so lucky. . .”

            _That’s why he looked so worn._

            She sunk to the floor in front of him, and reached out, slid her fingers through his curls ever so gently. He flinched, and his eyes grew wild before he was kicking his feet to push himself back. The White Lady smiled sadly, felt tears gather in her eyes as her hands pressed to his face and shoulders.

            “Merry,” she murmured, and turned to Pippin, nodded for him to speak as well. “My Merry, please, wake up, sweetheart.”

            “Merry, it’s Pip, you have to wake up now.”

            “Good, sweet Merry, please wake up.”

            And suddenly his eyes were clearing and he stared back and forth between the two of them.

            “Pip,” his hands reached out to her, his eyes filled with tears. He crumpled in her arms, slid close and pressed his cheek to her shoulder and shuddered. “ _My lady_. . .”

            She hummed and shushed him, pulled him close to her with a gentle fondness. The three day ride to Gondor, she had shared her bed and spent so much time with Merry, that it seemed falling into his arms was easy. The familiar touch of him was like coming home. Her hands brushed over him, caressed and touched and soothed him until he was calm and touching her with equal adoration.

            “My lady, please, might we. . .?” his hand lifted to touch her face, and she pressed a kiss to his palm in response; an easy ‘yes’. “Pip?”

            Pippin scooted closer to the pair, and looked at Merry expectantly.

            “Yes Merry?”

            “I’ll be staying with the Lady Eowyn tonight.”

            The Thain blinked in surprise, then looked between the two with a mischievous smile growing on his face.

            “Ah, well then. . .I’ll uh, go back to bed then, shall I?” he asked, and winked at the pair. Rather than put Merry down, Eowyn lifted him in her arms, bridal style, and grinned cheekily.

            “Only if you can!” she threw quietly over her shoulder as she carried him to her own room, narrowly dodging servants. She made it into her room by the skin of her teeth. After tossing him on her bed, she bolted her door and turned to eye him. “So, um, what were you thinking?”

            “It has been long since we’ve done this, hasn’t it?” Merry murmured to himself, almost completely unaware of Eowyn’s presence until the bed dipped from her weight. She sat at the edge tentatively. The solemnity of the nightmare was still there, strongly so. She licked her lips and looked to him, worried. The hobbit shifted to his knees and shuffled across the bed, until he could reach out and cup her face in his hands. His voice dropped to a whisper.

            “I want to feel you inside me.”

            Her breath faltered for a moment, before she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was deep, slow, but filled with moans of desperate want. It had been far too long for both of them; every touch felt like fire, seared lust into their skin. Eowyn twisted around until she settled between Merry’s legs, and his hands roamed up and down her sides, across her chest, reached whatever he could touch. She sighed as she broke the kiss to untie her nightgown. The blonde sat up and stood, let the chemise fall to the floor, and slid back onto the bed to press against Merry once again.

            In the meantime, Merry was shrugging off his own clothes as quickly as he could between kisses, and Eowyn giggled when she felt his cock, hard against her stomach. She nuzzled him.

            “So anxious, my sweet,” she murmured, and let her hand wander down to palm it. She smirked when he groaned and pressed delightful kisses to his cheeks. With a huff, he pushed her up and off of him, made her turn onto her back before he was pressing his own kisses to her chest. His lips traveled from one nipple to the other, leaving them red and wet and sweetly tended to. They moved down down, down, until his nose was buried in golden curls and his tongue was pressing against her pink cunt, slick and wet. A breathy moan slipped into the air as his fingers worked her entrance, and his tongue slipped and teased against her clit.

            Merry chuckled and hummed as she writhed under him, took mental notes and appreciated every sound. The memories of her never matched up to her sheer beauty in person, and he swore to keep these moments locked in his mind forever. Only when she was gripping the sheets under her with ferocity, her nose scrunched and brow furrowed, whole body taut, did he let up on her. A few more licks, slow and gentle, were what he finished with. She twitched and shuddered from the aftershocks, and chuckled when he came back up to lie next to her. His prick was still as hard, even more so to be sure, and she pulled and squeezed it as she recovered from her high.

            “When was it last that _I_ was inside _you_?” she asked coyly, and he shrugged silently. Merry’s hips shifted and thrust into her grip until she let go. Eowyn turned on her stomach and reached down to open up her nightstand. When she slipped back to look at him, she held a vial of oil and a harness with a smoothed, varnished wooden cock. She laid back and raised a brow. “Well then? Get to work.”

            He rolled his eyes and picked up the harness, took a moment to lift each of her legs and secure it to her waist and thighs. After it was hooked on and snug, he dropped down to lick it once, and then fell back out of reach to stick his tongue out at her.

            “And now what, my lady?” he asked cheekily, and it was Eowyn’s turn to roll her eyes.

            “Come here, and I’ll show you,” she muttered, and leaned up to pull him close again. She snuck the bottle from his hands and drizzled some of the oil onto her fingers. She shifted him until he was straddling her face to face, and on his hands and knees. Her fingers slipped under him and began to tease and touch him carefully. The blonde grinned when he moaned loudly, and to reward him, her finger slid into him ever so slowly, up to the third knuckle, and stopped there.

            “How is that? “ she murmured, and the only thing he did was nod, words failing him. Merry rocked his hips back when he had adjusted, and Eowyn pistoned and rotated her finger until a second one was added to the bunch. Another, then another, and finally he was begging her to “Stop already, please, just put it in, I cannot take it anymore!”

            With another crooked and cheeky grin, she spared some more oil for her wooden cock, and finally helped him sink down onto it with a low and drawn out moan. He rested in her lap for a moment, breathing heavy and hands fisted in the sheets. Her own hands brushed across his back, touched and caressed tenderly as she waited for him to adjust. When Eowyn felt Merry was ready, she tilted her hips forward slowly.

            “Nnngh!” the moan that left his throat made her throat go dry, and she did it again. This time, he leaned forward, unable to hold himself up, and so she sat up and shifted into a comfortable position for them, and then urged his hips to lift and drop against her. Every movement brought the most agreeable sounds to her ear, and she pressed kisses to every inch of skin she could reach. It wasn’t long before he was riding her, and her hands landed on his hips. She pressed up to meet him each time he came down, until he was putty in her hands and every motion was making him moan with abandon.

            Her hand slipped down to palm at his cock and he was gone; thick stripes of cum painted her stomach and she kept up her thrusts until he was shuddering and begging her to stop. His whole body shook from the force of it. Eowyn kissed his cheeks and forehead, waited until his breathing slowed to normalcy and he was able to speak.

            “Wow,” he remarked dazedly, and she snickered in amusement, helped him lift himself off of her and picked her nightgown off the floor to clean off her stomach. She slipped off the harness and shifted uncomfortably; she’d grown hot from all the activity, and was nearly in tears of thanks when his hand slid down between her legs. A few short strokes, a dirty whispered sentence, and she was crying out again as she came, riding his hand hard.

            She dropped the harness into the nightie and shoved them both to the floor, before turning to take Meriadoc into her arms. She buried her nose in his hair, inhaled the sweet scent of him while they murmured sweet nothings and shared light touches. As they cuddled and coddled each other, they slowly drifted off to sleep. Neither of them dreamed that night; all was well.

.


End file.
